Poems (Bushnell)/Absence
For works with similar titles, see Absence.
XIIIABSENCE
Through azure realms of loneliness Sails the hot sun: no cloudy fleetConvoys him o'er the trackless waste, Or cools his path with snowy sleep, Becalmed upon the tropic deep;Or scuds, by freshening breezes chased,Dropping swift shadows down to bless And make the sunlight doubly sweet.
Earth's upturned face is glad no more, Expressionless beneath the noon;The listless winds in covert lie, Nor hunt in lightsome companies Through whispering grain and sighing treesThe sea sends inland no replyTo the dumb yearning of the shore, But ebbs away in weary swoon.
A bird in yonder thicket sings,— And if so be his song tells true,In miles and miles the only bird; For ne'er such plaintive monotone Of heart companionless and loneWas in a summer noontide heard;Tight folded are his useless wings, His mate is lost beyond the blue.
Gone is the nameless charm that binds The outer world in kinship blest, The interchange, the light refrain; And 'twixt our souls, that once were near, Lie leagues of stirless atmosphere, Asleep upon a silent main: Nothing to-day its heart-mate finds, Nor any answer to its quest.
One kiss of shadow or of air The world to lovelier life would stir; Or, might I clasp that distant hand, Then love would grace for me the whole: So light a touch on hand or soul, So light a touch on sea or land, Makes all things one and all things fair. Wake, wind! and blow a touch from her!